


Spell me out of this

by andonewillbringhisfall



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: M/M, frozen and let it go-inspired spells, it worked really well with the plot so shhh don't fight me on this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-12-30 02:41:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12098940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andonewillbringhisfall/pseuds/andonewillbringhisfall
Summary: Simon can't deal with his feelings for Baz so he uses magic to repress them.





	Spell me out of this

**Author's Note:**

> Hey friends. Another fic reposted from my Tumblr. I'm slooowly gonna get them all up here.

( _Sixth year)_

SIMON

Agatha is upset with me, because I didn’t ask her where she’d been. I think. She’s been gone the entire day, and I just figured she had something she needed to do or she was sick or she needed a day off, and I pushed it out of my mind, and I didn’t say anything. She thinks I don’t care enough about where she is, or what she’s doing. She thinks that if I like her, those are things I should worry about.

*

Agatha is upset with me, because we’ve barely spent any time together over the last week. She thinks I’m too busy following Baz around to care that I’m never around her. She thinks that as her boyfriend, I should want to spend time around her. But I do want to spend time around her. I just know Baz is up to something.

*

Penny keeps nagging at me, because she thinks it’s weird that I don’t talk about Agatha much. I don’t think she has a problem with it, but she’s convinced that I don’t like Agatha the way I did in fourth year. In fourth year, I wouldn’t shut up about her. I told her that liking Agatha doesn’t mean I have to think about her  _all the time_.

‘Well, no, but it’s a known symptom,’ Penny said.

*

Penny says it’s strange that Agatha doesn’t seem to get under my skin. The other day Agatha got frustrated with me for botching up a spell, and Penny said she was surprised when I didn’t seem really worked up about it.

‘That’s because you guys know what my magic is like,’ I said. ‘Agatha’s just frustrated, she’s not judging me.’

Penny says I used to try so hard to impress Agatha, but now she thinks I’m just going through the motions. I told her I’m trying to be a good boyfriend, and she said I’m only doing it because it’s what I’m supposed to do.

‘What are you saying, Penny?’ I finally ask. I know she’s getting at something.

‘I just don’t think you two are that into each other,’ she says. ‘What she said didn’t bother you?’

‘No. Why would I be pissed at her? She wasn’t trying to upset me. Not like when Baz says things like that.’

It  _does_  bother me when Baz insults me. (Not to mention the fact that he does it all the time. It’s his favourite hobby.)

‘You barely hang out together anymore.’

‘We do, I’m just busy…’ Following Baz. Trying to figure out what he’s plotting. There have been weeks where I barely let him out of my sight.

‘You never talk about her,’ Penny continues.

‘What do I talk about, then?’

She sighs. ‘You talk about Baz.’

I shrug, because, fine, she’s right. I probably do talk about Baz too much. I probably do think about Baz too much. A lot more than I think about Agatha.

‘Where  _is_  Baz?’ I say. ‘What’s he up to? I need to know where he is.’ I need to see him. I need to be around him.

I look at Penny. Penny stares back.

I gulp.

‘Simon…?’

Oh.

Well,  _shit_.

*

‘ _You have to help me._ ’

*

I can’t be in love with Baz. I  _can’t_. I – well. Obviously, I can, and I am. But I shouldn’t be, and I don’t want to be, because he’s my nemesis, and he hates me, and it fucking  _hurts_.

And also I have a girlfriend.

But right now that seems like the least of my problems. I’m going to have to face him. Not just today, but every day for the next three years, and then at some point I’m going to have to fight him.

And…  _it’s kill or be killed_.

Fuck.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. I have a duty, to the World of Mages, to Watford, to the Mage and everything he wants me to achieve. This is going to mess with all of our plans.

And that’s just the rational side of it. Rationally, I know I can’t feel this way, because I have a goal to focus on and ultimately that goal is going to involve fighting Baz. Rationally, I already know it’s a disaster, but it  _feels_  even worse.

He  _hates_  me. He’s been out to get me since the day we met, and it’s not just because I’m the Mage’s Heir; I could live with that. But he’s all poise and grace and perfection, and – well, what chance in hell do I have? I can barely hold my wand the right way around half the time (alright, that’s an exaggeration, it only happened like five times in first year, but Baz has never let me forget it).

I have to spend every day and every night with him, and sometimes he’s close enough to touch, and self-control isn’t my strong point (ask anyone who’s seen me use magic).

Sharing a room with the person you love most, and knowing that he’d likely run you through with his fangs if he knew… well, it’s a whole bundle of contradictions. It’s the shock and the high of having his grey eyes on you, before you realise those eyes could sear a hole right through you with the intensity of the hatred in his gaze. It’s the constant push and pull of your mutual existence, simultaneously desperate but too terrified to come any closer.

And there’s no reprise.

Ever.

I’m clumsy and slow at the best of times, but I turn into a total mess whenever he’s around, and it doesn’t help. The more flustered I get, the more he provokes me, and the more he mocks me, the more it hurts. And the more it hurts, the more I want to shove him into a wall and kiss him senseless, just to shut him up. Just to make it stop.

Just to know what it feels like.

But I can never do that. And it’s not like… I mean, it’s not like there’s any  _point_  to this, right? I’m hurting, it’s unfair on Agatha, and the only person who might gain some sadistic amusement out of it is Baz. But he can never know.

*

‘What do you mean?’ Penny asks.

‘You have to help me,’ I repeat.

‘Yeah, but… help you do what, exactly? You know him better than I do, I can’t –’

‘Help me get over him,’ I blurt. ‘And you can’t tell Agatha about this. Or anyone. Ever.’

‘Of course I wouldn’t,’ she says, looking insulted that I’d even suggest it. ‘And of course I’ll help you, but there’s not much I can do. I get the feeling pointing out his bad qualities isn’t going to help you get over him,’ she says with a rueful smile.

‘No, I meant, like, spell me out of this.’

She frowns. ‘What?’

‘There are love spells, right? Surely there are anti-love spells too. You can spell me out of love with him, right? Please.’

She gives me a wary look. ‘I don’t know, Simon, I’ve never heard of an anti-love spell.’

‘But we can figure one out, right?’ I cross my arms over my chest to keep from fidgeting, then realise I want to look desperate and pleading (which I am) (obviously) so I uncross them and clasp my hands together.

‘Probably… I just don’t think it’s a good idea.’

‘Why? Being –’ I stop, look around and lower my voice to a whisper – ‘in love with Baz isn’t a good idea.’

‘Fair enough,’ Penny says, ‘but that’s how you really feel. It’s not a good idea to mess with that. And besides – why  _are_  you in love with him?’

I shrug. ‘I think I have been for a while. I don’t know. He’s… I don’t know. I guess we’re not that different.’

Penny snorts. ‘Not that different how?’

I shrug again. ‘We match,’ I mumble.

The look she gives me is extremely pitying. ‘Oh, Simon.’

‘Yeah. So will you spell me?’

‘I told you, I don’t know any anti-love spells. And if I did, I probably couldn’t pull them off.’

‘Okay, but…’ I run a hand through my hair, no doubt making it even messier than it already was, and sigh. ‘He’s still going to try to kill me someday. I know that. So I really can’t be in love with him.’

Penny nods. ‘Okay. I’ll do it. I’ll find you a spell.

‘Thankyou,’ I sigh.

I can’t take much more of this.

PENNY

I don’t think I have a choice. I have to help Simon find an anti-love spell, even though I’m not sure that it’s a good idea.

My first priority is to keep him safe, and alive. And he’s right; he’s going to have to fight Baz to the death someday, and I don’t fancy his chances if he’s in love with the guy. Baz is ruthless, and intent on being the best at everything he does. I should know, having competed with him for top spot all these years.

Simon wouldn’t stand a chance.

Still, I don’t like the idea of repressing Simon’s feelings, especially if it’s irreversible. We’ve all got a long time to grow and change, and when you’re a mage, especially if you’re Simon Snow, who knows what will happen? Simon’s being controlled by the Mage, and Baz is being controlled by his family, but all this goes to show is that you can’t control everything. We’re human (mostly), and our hearts and minds are human, and we can’t be shaped by destiny.

I’m going to find him a spell.

But I’ll try to be clever about it.

SIMON

‘Are you ready?’

I think about Baz, and watching his shallow breaths as he sleeps, and trying not to go red, or worse, not to cry every time he says something to get under my skin, just to hit home the fact that I’ll never be anything but pathetic to him. I think about sitting in class trying not to notice the way the sunlight streams through the window and weaves its way into his hair or how soft it looks. I think about all the things I could say to him instead of trying to match his insults. I think about how he’d probably have his fangs at my throat before I could even finish the sentence, and then I’m thinking about his mouth at my throat and –

No.

‘You have no fucking idea,’ I tell Penny.

‘Okay. Here we go.’ She points her ring at me and gives me a questioning glance. I nod, and her ring starts to glow.

‘ **Conceal, don’t feel**.’

It’s as simple as that. (A Disney song?) I feel her magic take root, like a light buzz of electricity spreading through my body, and it’s nice. Calming. And then I think about Baz, and I think about walking up to our room and finding him there, and I think about his grey eyes following me across the room.

I feel nothing.

***

_(Eighth year)_

Today, I’m going back to Watford for the last time.

This is the last time I’ll sign out of my summer home and walk out to catch the bus. I don’t know where I’ll be this time next year.

This is the last year of classes with Penny and Agatha, of sour cherry scones every morning (that thought makes me panic a little bit), of sharing a room with Baz.

I won’t miss the last one, obviously. It hasn’t been as bad, sharing a room with him for the last two years, ever since Penny spelled me.

I don’t like to think about that. I don’t even know if I’m still under a spell, or if this is just normal now. I guess it doesn’t matter.

Anyway. It hasn’t been as bad, because he hasn’t really been able to get under my skin since sixth year, not the way he used to.

I’ll miss the room at the top of Mummers House. I’ll miss my uniform. I’ll miss going to Agatha’s lacrosse games, even now that we’ve broken up (and I’m mostly okay with it. Mostly.) And of course, the food.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. It’s not time to take out my Watford list yet; I usually do that on the buses and the train to school. For now, I need to focus on getting out of here.

BAZ

The first day of the school year is always the worst.

It’s been a long time since I’ve seen Snow. Just long enough that it stops being a relief and starts to hurt. Just long enough for my family to convince me that I hate him. Just long enough for me to wonder if my feelings might not exist anymore the next time I see him.

And then when I do see him it’s always a shock. And it’s impossible to distract myself, and I know within seconds that nothing has changed.

This will be the third year it happens. The whole drive to Watford I’ll be bracing myself, building my walls up one by one so I don’t fall apart or give anything away when I see him. Knowing that I’ll need them (because I haven’t fallen out of love with him over the summer. I’m starting to think it’ll never happen).

I just have to get through one more year.

‘Ready to face the Snow boy again?’ my father asks, sounding jovial.

I sigh. ‘Yes.’

Pretending to hate Snow to my family is almost worse than pretending to hate him to his face. Because Snow just thinks I’m an evil twat (or any of his other deadly uncreative insults), while they  _want_  me to hate him. They want me to hurt the boy I love.

And I’m tired of it.

Just one more year.

And at the end of it, I’ll have to fight him, and he’s going to win.

‘This is it, Basil,’ Fiona says. ‘This is the year we take him down, and that tyrant Mage with him.’

I nod. (We’re not taking Snow down. Nothing could ever take Snow down.) (I hope).

‘We have a plan,’ Fiona says, turning to me. ‘The Old Families are finally ready, and the first thing we need is to get Snow out of the way.’

I keep my expression cold.

‘What do you want me to do?’

She starts laying out the plan, and my father looks so eager, and even when little Mordelia comes in to get her breakfast Fiona doesn’t stop talking. I tune out, because it’s suddenly hit me that this is really it.

Seven years of antagonism, three years of being in love with him (maybe more, if I’d been honest with myself in fourth year), and now I actually have to try to end him.

What would the world be like, without Simon Snow in it?

It seems unfair. Not to the world, but to Simon. He’s so full of magic and life and fire and how can we talk about making him stop existing?

How can  _I_  be the one to do that?

Fighting him would be one thing, because I already know that I would lose. But what Fiona is proposing, an elaborate plan involving stealth and surprise and dark magic, that’s not a fair fight.

And I can’t do it.

She’s still talking and she assumes that I’m going to agree, but I already know that I can’t.

Because I’m in love with him, and I guess love means sacrifice. Love means making a choice, and I’ve got Simon Snow on the one hand and my family on the other. My family, whose ideals I believe in, who have raised me without a word about my vampirism (which, to be honest, is maybe not a good thing, but I’m still here, aren’t I?). They expect me to do what’s best for the Old Families. Pitches are loyal. We say and do whatever we want with the rest of the world, but Pitches are loyal to each other, and to our cause.

But I do love Simon, truly and irrevocably, and I can’t do this.

‘I won’t do it,’ I say, once Fiona has finished laying out her plan.

‘What? Why? Do you have a better idea?’

‘No. I won’t do it.’

She sighs. ‘Look, I know you want a fair fight, but there’s a lot at stake here, the Mage –’

‘I don’t care about the Mage,’ I say, crossing my arms. ‘This is about Simon, and I refuse to do it.’

‘The Old Families are counting on you, Baz,’ my father cuts in.

‘I don’t care.’

Fiona squints at me, reeking of suspicion. ‘Why won’t you do it? This was always the plan.’

I tilt up my chin defiantly, and I know what she’s thinking. I look like my mother when I do that.

‘Because Snow didn’t ask for any of this,’ I say. ‘He didn’t ask to be the Chosen One or the Mage’s Heir. He’s just a boy, and he doesn’t deserve to die. And I don’t want him to die. Because I’m –’ Do they really need to know? Well, fuck it, I’ve come this far. ‘I love him. So. Yeah. I’m off to school,’ I say, and stride over to the front door without looking back.

‘Basil!’

‘Baz, come back here!’

I keep walking.

SIMON

I’m on the second bus when it hits me.

On the way to the first bus station, I thought of the home I was leaving. On the first bus, I took out my list, and thought of sour cherry scones and Penny. I thought of number 3, the football pitch, while I waited for my second bus. Then I thought of number 4, my school uniform, and I was just about to start on number 5, our room, when it hit me.

Baz.

I suddenly can’t stop thinking about Baz.

Baz on the pitch, Baz sneering at me, Baz casting spells. And the fact that I’m about to see him in a few short hours, in our shared room, with the smell of cedar and bergamot already invading the room and his things neatly set out on the bathroom counter and Baz in his school uniform. And suddenly my palms are sweaty, and my chest is doing that flipping thing where it feels like I’ve suddenly dropped a hundred metres out of the air and I’m still trying to catch my breath after the fall.

Fuck.

This has happened before.

Sixth year, before Penny cast  **conceal, don’t feel**.

It’s exactly the same. The racing heart, the blushing, the fucking  _being unable to stop thinking about Baz_. That feeling that I get when I picture him, when I think about seeing him, nervousness and exhilaration and dread and mostly the certainty that I’m going to fall and crash and burn.

The spell must have worn off. That’s the only explanation for why I’m suddenly, totally, hopelessly in love with him again. And  _that_  (my being hopelessly in love with him) is the only explanation for what I’m feeling all of a sudden.

Fuck. It’s been two years since I felt like this. I never really let myself think about it, but I was sure that the spell didn’t matter anymore, that I really didn’t feel like this at all. But apparently it’s been there all along, just underneath the surface, and now – well, now it’s back.

But  _why_? Why now, after two whole years? Everything was going so well. I was fine. I was still going to have to fight him, and he was still an evil git and probably a vampire, but he hasn’t been able to get to me like he used to. I could deal with him hating me.

And now…

Now everything hurts all over again.

_What would he say if he knew?_

It’s okay. This is fine. I just have to make it to school.

The second bus arrives at the train station, and I hop off and make it onto the train just in time.

This is okay. This is fine. Only about an hour left.

An hour until I’m in the same room as him. What if I go off? What if he can see it all written on my face? That I want to kiss him, and touch his hair, and curl into him (and I bet we’d fit perfectly together) and bury my face in his chest. Would he know? Will he still hate me?

Half an hour. Maybe a bit more. The train’s almost there.

 _Don’t think about it. Don’t think about him. Just don’t think_.

I try to distract myself, counting trees as they fly past the window, examining the awful patterns on the seats, thinking about number 6 – the Mage, and number 7 – magic.

Twenty minutes. I get off the train and find the taxi driver, with my name on a cardboard sign.

I’m still thinking about Baz. What did he do this summer? Is he worrying about the war? Is he okay, will I see him today, safe and unhurt?

Fuck, I miss him. Which is stupid, given that all he ever does is insult me and do his best to make me cry (he’s never even come close since Penny cast the spell on me). It matters – it definitely matters, it fucking hurts – but I can almost imagine I understand why he does it. And I don’t think he’s evil for it. Maybe a villain, but not evil. Not unworthy of love.

I mumble my thanks to the taxi driver and race through the Watford gates, forgetting to appreciate that this is the last time I’ll come in through them to start the school year. I’m about to go up to our room, but I change my mind and head towards the Cloisters instead.

I lurk by the doors and stop the first girl I see, begging her to see if Penny’s in her room and ask her to come down. Penny can get through the wards on Mummers House, somehow, but she refuses to tell me how, so I’m stuck out here.

‘Are you okay? Did something happen?’ Penny asks as she bursts through the door. She seems surprised when she sees me in one piece, and I realise guiltily that I must have looked panicked, and the girl must have told Penny that, and I’ve made her worry about me.

‘I’m fine. It’s just…’ I glance around and lower my voice. ‘I need you to cast the spell again. Please.’

‘The spell?’ She frowns. ‘You don’t mean…’

‘Yeah,  **conceal, don’t feel** , or whatever. That will still work, right? Even if the song is a few years old?’

‘Aleister Crowley,’ Penny mutters under her breath. She adjusts her glasses and peers at me. ‘So you’re saying the spell wore off? You’re in love with him?’

Just hearing her say it out loud makes me turn red again.

‘Yeah,’ I say, shrugging for good measure. ‘I don’t know why.’

She purses her lips. ‘I’m not going to spell you again.’

I gape at her. It never occurred to me that she might not agree, and I might actually have to stay in love with him. As soon as the thought crosses my mind I’m suddenly cold all over.  _Fuck_. This is going to be a painful year.

‘Penny, please,’ I say. ‘Why not? I can’t… I can’t do this.’

‘Simon…’ There’s a look in Penny’s eyes that I haven’t seen before, and I don’t know what it means. She looks amazed, but not nearly as worried as she should. ‘Have you ever actually seen Frozen?’

‘No, when would I have watched it?’ I say, confused.

‘That’s what I thought. Okay, movie night tonight. I’ll invite Agatha.’

‘But I don’t – but –’

‘You’ll see,’ Penny says. ‘Now… you should probably go get settled in your room.’

BAZ

Snow is acting weird.

Maybe I’m just paranoid, because of what happened at home. Because I’m no longer the only person who knows that I’m in love with him. Because I actually said those words out loud, and that feels like a huge thing, like something that changes everything. But of course it doesn’t, because my father and Fiona would never let the word get out. Their shame guarantees that my secret is safe.

(In love with the fucking Mage’s Heir. I can understand their outrage.)

But no, Snow is definitely acting weird. He came into the room a few minutes ago, took one look at me and fled into the bathroom without saying a word. I waited for him to come back out, and when he finally did, he was bright red and looked more distressed than I’ve ever seen him, and that includes the chimera incident and the time in fifth year when I led him in circles around the Catacombs for three hours. Now he’s shuffling around arranging his few belongings on his side of the room, his head down.

‘What’s up with you, Snow?’ I finally sneer.

_Is he okay?_

He jumps. ‘Fuck off,’ is his only response.

I smirk. ‘Eloquent as always.’ But seriously, is something wrong with him? Is he hurt, or is he just worried about something? Has the Mage set him off on another impossible task? I frown.

‘I – I’m –’ He finally looks up at me, and he meets my eyes for the first time in months, and damn him and his ordinary blue eyes. ‘Fuck,’ he says under his breath, his gaze dropping again. His hands move restlessly to the cover of his bed, smoothing over the creases.

‘What?’  _Tell me what’s wrong_ , I want to say.  _I won’t hurt you._

‘Nothing,’ he says through gritted teeth, suddenly turning around and marching towards the door. ‘I’m just fucking fine and it’s none of your fucking business.’

I bite my lip. ‘You made it my business when you came storming in here slamming doors and tripping over things,’ I say, my voice soft, and it sounds more menacing than I intend.

He doesn’t respond, slamming the door behind him (and proving my point – idiot).

Either he particularly hates me today (that was some excessive cursing even for him) or something is really wrong.

And I’m not sure which option hurts me more.

SIMON

Penny has got her laptop and the three of us are huddled in an empty classroom, watching what is probably an illegal screening of Frozen. Agatha seems to really like it – I think she likes everything that reminds her of the Normal world – and, well, I can sort of identify with Elsa, what with the magical powers and how they isolate her.

I still don’t know why Penny is making me watch this. I mean, the song has already happened and the  **conceal, don’t feel**  lyric isn’t even relevant to love, or to my situation, so I’m not sure what she’s getting at. I’m glad of the distraction, though, so I don’t have to be in Mummers House listening to Baz prod me about what’s  _wrong with me_  and fantasising that he’s asking because he’s concerned. I’m just glad I don’t have to be in the same room as him yet, because I’m no good at hiding my feelings and surely he’ll figure it out sooner or later.

And I’ll have to live with that, and I doubt he would go easy on me.

I want to tell Penny to stop the movie and just spell me again. I’ve been following the plot, looking for clues, and I see no reason why the spell shouldn’t work again if it worked the first time. So it’s not that Penny  _can’t_  spell me; it’s that she won’t.

As the movie goes on, I come up with a theory. Elsa’s decision to isolate herself from everyone and to hide her powers – to conceal, and not to feel, so to speak – is the cause of everything that goes wrong during the movie. Is that what Penny is getting at? Does she think that using the spell to repress my feelings is going to have consequences like that?

It can hardly be worse than this, can it? This is a war, and I’m in love with the enemy.

I finally stop thinking and just watch the movie, and then it reaches the climax, when Ana sacrifices herself –  _an act of true love_  – which breaks the spell. I can feel Penny watching me during the entire scene, and I realise this is important. This is what she wanted me to see.

The movie ends, and Penny points her ring at the classroom lights to turn them back on.

‘So?’ she says to me. ‘Did you figure it out?’

‘True love breaks the spell,’ I say, but I still don’t really understand. ‘Meaning what?’

‘Since I got the spell from the movie, I was able to cast it so that only an act of true love would break the spell. An act of true love has to involve a major sacrifice where you choose your true love over something that’s important to you.’

I frown. ‘But I didn’t –’

‘Not  _you_ , Simon,’ Penny says softly. ‘I didn’t want to make the spell permanent, just in case… just in case it turned out your feelings weren’t unrequited. So I cast it so it would wear off if he ever did something… an act of true love.’

‘Oh,’ I say, and my mouth is suddenly dry.

‘What are we talking about?’ Agatha asks. She’s still sitting with the laptop nestled on her lap, and I kind of thought she was asleep, but I guess not. ‘He? Who are we talking about?’

‘Um – I – it’s just – Penny cast a spell on me and – Penny, is there no other way for the spell to wear off?’ I ask. Because surely there has to be. ‘Maybe it just expired. Maybe the song isn’t popular enough anymore.’

‘A spell can’t just wear off suddenly, all at once,’ Penny says. ‘Something must have happened before you both came to school today.’

‘No-one’s going to tell me what’s going on, are they,’ Agatha grumbles, snapping the laptop shut.

‘It’s kind of embarrassing,’ I mumble.

‘There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Si,’ Penny says.

‘He’s my  _nemesis_. And a  _vampire_. And he  _hates_  me. There kind of is.’

‘Baz? What about him?’ Agatha asks. ‘Just tell me.’

‘I’m in love with him,’ I blurt out. ‘And Penny thinks he’s in love with me too, which is utterly fucking ridiculous, but apparently it’s the only explanation for the spell wearing off, and –’

‘Wait, hold up. You’re in love with – okay. Okay, that kind of makes sense,’ Agatha says, nodding. I gape at her.

‘It does?’

‘Yeah, I mean, everyone knows you were obsessed with him, until – oh. Until Penny cast the spell, right?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Which was when, exactly?’ Her mouth is drawn in a tight line and I realise she’s figured that out.

‘I’m sorry, Agatha. Sixth year.’ I hang my head.

‘Right.’ She puffs out a breath. ‘I mean, that definitely pisses me off, jerk move, and I’m definitely going to be mad at you for it later. But I broke up with you, and you two kind of make sense, so, I think you should go for it. Tell him how you feel.’

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to cool the magic crackling beneath my skin.

‘Okay, I mean, no-one’s going to spell me, and he’s going to figure it out himself either way, so I guess I’m doing this,’ I say.

Penny smiles, clasping her hands together. ‘Good luck, but I don’t think you need it.’

*

I’m sitting on the edge of my bed, hands clasped in my lap to keep from fidgeting, waiting for Baz to come out of the bathroom. When he does, he glances at me but doesn’t say anything, and I watch him move around the room.

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.

 _Act of true love_ , I remind myself. It’s all going to be okay.

He glances over at me again, frowning, and finally straightens up, crossing his arms.

‘What?’ he snaps.

I gulp. ‘Uh.’

‘I know you want something, Snow.’

I nod. ‘Yeah – I – yeah.’  _True love_. According to Penny, this can’t go wrong.

‘Well?’

‘I have to – to tell you something,’ I say. I sit on my hands, so they don’t start shaking, and so I won’t reach for him, because he’s sitting on his bed mirroring me and his knees are a hair’s breadth from mine.

‘Go on, then.’ He’s staring at me, and he’s probably just pissed off but his gaze is so intense and it’s making it hard to think. What do I say?

I can’t quite bring myself to completely lose all dignity and actually tell him how I feel. I’m not ready for that kind of rejection.

‘Did anything happen this morning? Before you came to school?’ I ask instead.

He doesn’t react, and at first I think Penny must have been wrong, and there was no act of true love, but then I notice that he’s gone so still he must have stopped breathing.

‘Like what?’ he says coldly. ‘Why are you asking me this?’

‘So something did happen?’ I press. ‘Did you…’

‘Did I  _what_ , Snow?’ he snarls, standing up and stepping away from me.

I stare after him. His jaw is set and his shoulders are back and there’s pride and stubbornness etched in every line of his face and I can’t help but realise how beautiful he looks. And how nervous he makes me.

So I decide to swallow my pride. And before I can give myself a chance to change my mind and back out, I blurt out, ‘I love you.’

His expression doesn’t change. ‘Ex –  _excuse me?_ ’

It’s the first time I’ve ever heard Baz stutter.

‘That’s the truth,’ I say, and I suddenly can’t sit still anymore, so I get to my feet and before I know it I’m standing right in front of him. I have to look up to meet his eyes, and they’re so close, and his mouth is  _right there._  ‘I’ve been acting weird because I’m in love with you and I didn’t know how to act around you.’

He takes a deep breath, and I think that if nothing else, at least he’s unnerved.

‘Why are you telling me this now?’ he asks in a low voice. ‘I mean, since when?’

‘Uh, well, since today, I guess, but also since sixth year, kind of.’

‘What the fuck is that supposed to mean?’

This is  _not_  how I was hoping he’d react. He’s still keeping his distance, his expression so carefully blank, and he looks like he’s made of stone. But he hasn’t spat in my face or kicked me out of the room or laughed at me, so I guess that’s something.

‘Since sixth year,’ I decide. ‘Look, there was a spell. So I was kind of out of love with you for two years. But then – then this morning it suddenly wore off, and apparently that only happens because of an act of true love and so I thought that meant – um – do you…’ I stop talking, and I know my face has gone red again, and Baz still isn’t acting like he could care any less.

‘Snow, I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ he says, his voice level. ‘What spell?’

‘ **Conceal, don’t feel** ,’ I say, and I’m still blushing, because I’m just realising how pathetic this is going to sound. ‘Penny spelled me out of love with you in sixth year. But she cast it so the spell would wear off if you ever did something, like an act of true love. I don’t know.’ I shrug, and look anywhere but into his grey eyes, because I feel like I’ve just laid everything completely bare for him to see and it terrifies me. ‘And the spell wore off this morning,’ I finish, and I peek up at him.

He looks furious. ‘You  _spelled yourself out of love with me?_ ’

I shrug. ‘Yeah, I mean, it fucking hurts, okay? You hate me. Do you have any idea what it’s like to –’

He laughs. ‘Are you fucking kidding me, Simon? You absolute git. What kind of dick move is that?’

‘What was I supposed to do?’ I’m almost yelling now. ‘I was supposed to fight you, and you were going to kill me, and how was I supposed to deal with that and have  _feelings_  for you at the same time?’

‘I can’t believe Bunce agreed to this,’ Baz says.

I run my hand through my hair, growling in frustration. ‘Look, I know you think I’m pathetic, but nothing good was ever going to come of it, so what was the point?’

‘And you couldn’t take it. That  _is_ pathetic, Snow.’

I will  _not_  cry and give him any more reason to call me pathetic. ‘See? That’s exactly why. You’re cruel to me, Baz. All the time.’

‘I bet you asked her to spell you again today, didn’t you?’

‘Yes,’ I snap, glaring at the wall.

He huffs. ‘Un-fucking-believable.’ He strides over to the door. ‘I can’t deal with you right now, Simon.’ It slams behind him.

 _Simon_.

And it’s absolutely crazy, but all I can think of right now is how I want to hear him say my name again.

BAZ

Holy fucking shit.

This is  _not_  how I imagined this scene would go.

And yes, I’ve imagined this countless times, where Simon tells me he has feelings for me, but  _never_  did I think he would have spelled himself out of those feelings. For  _two whole fucking years._

I mean, never did I think he would have feelings for me at all, so I shouldn’t really complain, should I?

And I’m not. Obviously. It’s a fucking dream come true and I’m almost ready to run back up to the room and throw him onto his bed and do everything I’ve ever dreamed of doing with him. But first I need to finish fuming because  _holy shit_ , two entire years of feeling like I’m burning alive every time I look at him and for  _what?_  For absolutely nothing.

Two years of spending my nights in the Catacombs trying to drown everything I felt in the darkness, when I could have been up in our room, sleeping peacefully with Simon by my side. Two years of trying harder and harder to get under his skin and get some kind of reaction out of him, no matter how cruel I had to be to make it happen, because I suddenly seemed to mean nothing to him. Two years of sleeping across from him and yearning to touch him and knowing I would never be more than his evil nemesis.

And all. For.  _Nothing._

Alright. Okay.  _Simon Snow loves me_. I take a deep breath.  _Simon said he loves me_. Two years wasted and I’m not wasting another fucking second.

I turn around and take the stairs two at a time.

He startles when the door flies open. I think he’s been pacing, but he stills as soon as he sees me, his eyes wide.

‘Baz – I –’

‘Simon, wait,’ I say. The door closes behind me and I lean against it, shoving my hands in my pockets. ‘Look. You’re right, I’ve always been cruel to you, and I have a million excuses which you’ll eventually get to hear and they’re all shit and there  _is_  no excuse and I’m sorry. I know I hurt you, and I get why you did what you did.’

The door that I’m leaning on is the only thing holding me up and I can feel my heart pounding in my chest and Crowley, I’ve never been more sure that I’m actually alive.

‘I might have done the same thing, if I’d had someone to cast the spell on me,’ I say, watching him carefully, and his head jerks up when I say it so I know the implication isn’t lost on him. ‘But I don’t think I would have, because sometimes –’ I push off the door and slowly walk towards him. ‘Sometimes loving you was the only thing that made me feel like I was alive, rather than just undead. And the reason I was – still am, actually – so mad at you is because I can’t believe you got to spend the last few years totally oblivious and  _fine_  while I’ve been over here pining for you  _since fifth year_.’

‘Since… oh,’ he breathes, and now I’m standing right in front of him, so close I swear I can hear his heart pounding, and it’s going just as fast as mine.

‘Yeah,’ I murmur, and it’s been years and I seriously don’t want to wait another second so I duck my head and close my eyes and kiss him, and his mouth is soft and he’s so warm and so  _alive_  and I’m so glad I said what I did this morning because I never want to let him go and I never want to hurt him again. I would choose him again every time.

Our lips are just barely touching and I’m not really moving at all so it takes me a few moments to realise that he hasn’t responded, and then he moves back, and I open my eyes, and instead of this giddy warm feeling I’m suddenly cold all over.

‘I’m sorry,’ he says, and fuck. Maybe he didn’t feel that. That tingling heat and the sense of rightness and feeling like I can barely keep myself steady. Maybe that was just me, it happens sometimes, and he’s only technically been in love with me for one day, right? Or maybe he did know about this morning, somehow, and he made the whole thing about the spell up, or maybe he’s changed his mind, and –

His hand brushes over my cheek, and I sigh.

‘You said fifth year, shit, that’s a really long time. I’m really sorry.’

Oh.  _Oh._  That’s what he’s sorry about. ‘Yeah, you fucking should be,’ I mutter, but I make sure there’s no malice in my voice.

‘No, that means…’ His eyes are wide and I can see him working everything out in his head as he talks, but now his thumb is brushing over my jaw and he doesn’t seem to realise he’s doing it and I think,  _please don’t stop._

‘That means you were already in love with me the first time. When I got Penny to cast the spell.’

‘Yeah.’

‘Oh. Damn,’ he says, and he bites his lower lip, and I don’t even try to pretend I’m not mesmerised. ‘I’m sorry,’ he says again, sheepish.

I shake my head and reach out to brush back a lock of his hair, and he smiles when I do it.

‘No,’ I say. ‘It’s my own fault for being such a twat. I swear I’ll make it up to you. If you’ll let me.’

He nods. ‘Yes. I want.’ He tilts up his chin and brushes his lips against mine. ‘I want to know what you’re like,’ he says, ‘when you’re not thinking about politics or wondering if I hate you, and you’re just being you.’ He kisses the corner of my mouth. ‘I want to know what you’re like when you just say what you’re thinking without being all defensive and perfect.’

‘Perfect?’ I try to say, but it’s so quiet I don’t think he hears me. (I wonder if he has any idea what he does to me.)

‘I bet you’re a hopeless romantic,’ he adds.

‘Simon, I love you,’ I say, resting my forehead against his. ‘I’ll do anything.’

‘Just keep telling me that,’ he breathes, and I kiss the last word off his lips. ‘And that. Kissing. The kissing is nice,’ he says.

‘I love you,’ I say.

‘It’s mutual,’ he says, and I can feel him smiling against my lips.


End file.
